Tagged: heaviness

we strike a balance

we strike a balance
between lightness and heaviness,
managing only

what is sustainable, trying
not to lead each other astray

in the midst of our

in the midst of our
global pandemic, we balance
fear with joy, lightness

with heaviness, playing it
safe with becoming more human

under all this

under all this
heaviness, who’s to
say that when we
emerge from the
snow, we might be
an oak leaf or
a bamboo, a maple
or a poplar, green,
gold, red, or dead

heaviness comes with

heaviness comes with
the most bountiful – it is
as revealing as

looking over yonder and
having envy stare right back

these days are heavy,

these days are heavy,
no, even heavier, when there’s
no room for error

** in the absence of The Daily Post from WordPress, here’s your daily prompt: room

the day before the

distance is the great

distance is the great
revealer – you are miles and miles
and miles away, i

am weaving such a tale, heavy
with details, just to reach you

on a scale of walking

on a scale of walking
into traffic and
walking into the sea,
last night i
chose the sea,
and when i reached it,
you called me
out of the blue,
an accusatory tone
in your voice,
taking me back
to the days when
i’d arrive at my
childhood home
and not ring you up.
i was found out,
i leaned the
heaviness against you
so that i could
find a new
balance, and you
shifted so that you
could accommodate
the weight. i
wandered alongside,
instead of into,
though the sound of
the waves will always
compete with your voice


the past often holds

it is known, or

it is known, or
rather felt, that
memories get
shifted around
in the body, from
eyes, to liver,
to heart, to
fingers, to
skin, to feet.
how else can
we explain
the heaviness
from walking
away, walking
off, walking
to make sense
of it all, to
stop the rest
of the body
from feeling